Never really did
by TehGlompingKitsune45
Summary: He never really loved me. How could I have been so blind? One sided ZevranxM!Surana


Inspired by the fact that even though my (oblivious) Warden never said anything remotely romantic to Zevran the poor guy still fell head over heels.

* * *

Zevran had tried, oh Maker had he tried. But in the end he wasn't strong enough, he wasn't patient enough, and now he was fleeing like a coward.

In his mind he wanted to curse the day he had ever met that man, but his heart burned with too much love to ever consider such a thing. It was his own fault, he told himself, for not figuring it out sooner though it should have been apparent. But he'd been so blinded by those kind words, that beautiful smile, those soft hands. . . he flinched at the memories.

He'd taken everything the wrong way; the mage had been sweet to him because that was how his heart worked, it was filled with kindness and compassion for those around him. How could he have known though? No such man existed anywhere in the crows, not even any woman he had ever met was so delightfully sweet or gentle. Even if the other had never kissed him, never told him he loved him, never once looked at him with anything other than that caring gentleness that he looked at everyone with. . . he had believed that it was a simple matter of waiting.

He himself hadn't even the courage to say how much he loved him when he'd given the man that earring, so what was he to expect in return? But then the blight had ended and what excuses could he feed himself then? There was time now for everything Zevran thought there hadn't been time enough for before.

The man had started making excuses; "I have to meet with the king about the Grey Wardens", "I have to make sure Avernus is following orders", or "I need to head back to the tower to speak with Irving." Zevran would be forced to go to bed alone, often waking to find the mage resting in an entirely different room altogether though he'd promised to join him once whatever had taken him away in the first place was done.

But then there'd be glimmers of hope, when Zevran had been tormented by his nightmarish past the mage would be there. With those gentle hands he'd comfort him, smile at him with that beautiful smile which could melt the problems of the world away. Those nights he'd sleep beside him, allowing the assassin to hold him in his arms. And when Zevran was especially persistent the mage would stiffly accept his kisses, turning red and whispering that there were children still running about when he tried to move any further.

Yet. . . other nights Zevran would find him, staring off into the distance with that despaired expression; longing for something or someone that Zevran could not give him or ever be. And one day he'd finally broken, he'd cornered the mage and pinned him to a wall within Soldier's Peak. They were both elves but for some reason the other had always been slighter, so much more delicate. Stunned green eyes looked up at him and all he could convey in his own eyes was his heart's suffering.

"Please, I am so tired, my love. I do not want to be pushed away anymore, I need to know if you love me" the mage had hesitated.

He turned away, his own expression becoming pained "I care about you so much Zevran, you're a precious friend and I-" the Antivan stopped him there.

"No. . . That's all I needed to hear" the mage looked at him, his bleeding heart expressing grief.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you" his voice was small, almost pathetic, but it only made Zevran want to hold him. Now here he was, fleeing from Fereldan with his shattered heart still aching to return to the side of the man who had broken it.

He knew that the mage had spoken the truth when he'd said he hadn't wanted to hurt him; that was what this entire thing had been about. The man hadn't wanted to hurt him, so he'd only ever nudged him far enough away to keep him out of his bed, not knowing that in the long run it would have hurt so much less if he'd been cruel in the beginning.

Maybe one day the mage would have grown to love him, but he'd never know, he couldn't bear to think of it. He wasn't strong enough, wasn't patient enough, and now he was fleeing like a coward.

* * *

God damn, what is wrong with me?


End file.
